The Winchester Gospels
by realtalkproject
Summary: Parker Forest was supposed to disappear. Her story was over, there was no use for the eighteen-year-old prophet anymore. The problem was, the visions hadn't stopped. Castiel was sent down to earth to collect the rogue prophet. Only, Parker had already witnessed Dean Winchester's demise. And with Castiel's unwilling help, Parker is going to change Dean's fate, and save his soul.
1. Mission

Jimmy Novak had been quite understanding when Castiel asked to use his body. All he had to do was promise Novak's family would be safe and suddenly Castiel was walking among humans.

The man was devout, why shouldn't he trust the angel of the Lord?

Castiel stretched out his new fingers, being confined to the small human body was…different. He'd never used a vessel before. He was moving up in Heaven.

As Castiel stood on the pathway outside the Novaks' house, a small blonde child stared at him from the door.

"Daddy?" She whispered, peering up at the angel with confused eyes.

Castiel turned around and tilted his head, contemplating the insignificant human. He could walk away, leaving the child to wonder what had happened to her father. He owed her nothing. Jimmy Novak had agreed wholly to this. Castiel owned this human nothing.

Castiel turned around, taking a step with his new body. "I am not your father." He said in his deep gravely voice. Then he continued down the pathway.

Nothing was going to hinder his mission. Especially not some human girl.

* * *

Parker stood outside the town's movie theater bathroom, waiting for her friend Alyssa to meet her. This friend in particular had forced her to go on a blind date with some kid from school. He was tall, blonde, and a jock. The type of guy Parker didn't go for but the type Alyssa never stopped hooking up with. Alyssa had spent the whole night flirting with Parker's date along with her own. Times like these, Parker questioned her taste in friends.

"Finally," Parker breathed impatiently when her friend walked out of the bathroom. With Parker's date and disheveled hair. Parker rolled her eyes when Alyssa bounded happily over to her. "How's my date?" Parker mumbled darkly.

Alyssa grinned, "You didn't look like you were using him. Why let such a nice commodity go to waste?"

"Oh, please," Parker scoffed, glancing at both their dates who were talking adamantly about something. "Define commodity for me."

Alyssa opened her mouth to speak but shut it quickly, flipping back her blonde hair. "Acting like a smart ass is the reason I was hooking up with your date in the bathroom."

"No, you acting like a slut is what got you in my date's pants." Parker corrected her plainly. "Can we go home now?"

Alyssa rolled her eyes, "_Fine_," She drawled, calling the boys over.

They were heading out the doors of the tiny theater being thanked for coming when it happened.

The familiar dull pain was back. It began at the base of Parkers skull and stabbed its way around her head.

"_No_," Parker mumbled, stumbling forward. This was supposed to be over. It hadn't happened in weeks. She had died. The evil British woman had died. Some sort of hound had gotten her. Parker wasn't supposed to go through this anymore, what ever _this_ was.

"Parker?" Alyssa cried as Parker collapsed onto the ground, shaking violently. "Oh, my God! Parker!"

Alyssa tried to sit Parker up but she was shaking too much. She had seen Parker do this before but never knew what Parker was really going through. "_Parker!_"

Parker could faintly hear Alyssa but she felt too far away to respond. A scene was playing before her eyes but it was different then what she usually saw: A pointed faced, brown haired man in his late twenties flashed before her eyes, looking terrified out of his mind. His fearful scream echoed in Parker's eardrums. Loud barking sounded and Parker watched something big, black and doglike tear at the man's clothes and flesh. She could practically smell the blood.

They were the same enormous dogs that had murdered the young British lady weeks ago. Parker had never seen anything like them until these 'episodes'.

It took an agonizing forty-five seconds before the man died. They were long and bloody seconds and Parker wished she could have reached out and put him out of his misery.

_"Dean!"_ Someone out of Parker's vision had cried during the death scene. She couldn't see who was crying out Dean's name but they sounded desperate and frantic. There was a blinding light and Parker felt like she had been hit by a bus. The wind was knocked out of her and a cold sweat had formed across her forehead.

Trembling, Parker picked herself off the ground as Alyssa bombarded her with a million questions. Parker ignored her friend as she walked away down the side walk.

"Parker!" Alyssa cried from the exit. "Parker, _where the hell are you going_?"

Parker kept on going. She wasn't sure why she was ignoring Alyssa; all she knew was that she had to stop this. Parker couldn't keep having these visions of people dying or hurting others. There must have been some reason she was seeing these things. Parker had to be able to stop it. Why else would she see the things she saw?

Parker had to save Dean. She didn't have a last name, a location, or anything besides the name. It could have been a nickname or a fake name for all Parker knew.

Nothing was going to hinder her mission. Especially not some small detail like who the hell Dean was.

* * *

**AN: **_Just a little diddy I created for some contests on another site. It's all finished. I'll update whenever I get on._


	2. The Roadhouse

Parker pulled herself through her window, climbing up the rose-clad trellis. She made sure to land quietly to not wake her mom up.

Quietly, Parker grabbed her backpack and emptied it of her school books and filled it up with clothes and other necessities. She didn't know how long it would take to find Dean so she packed as much as she could fit into the bag.

She froze when she heard the creak of the wooden floor down the hall.

She wondered if her mother had heard her come in. Footsteps echoed through the house and Parker knew she wasn't going to slip out as easily as first thought.

Parker jumped into bed, tossing the backpack into the open closet. The door squeaked open as Parker's head hit the pillow.

"Parker?" Her mother asked sleepily. "It's after one. What are you doing up?"

Parker sat up; there was no point in hiding her street clothes. "I went to see that movie with Alyssa."

Her mother scanned the room, noticing her daughter's school supplies strewn messily across the floor. "What's going on?" She was more awake.

Parker could feel her cheeks heat up. She was never any good at lying to her mother. "Nothing. Just cleaning out my backpack."

Parker stood up quickly as her mother made her way to the closet and picked up the bag full of clothes. "What's this?" She demanded.

Parker frowned, unsure of what to say. She couldn't tell her mom about the vision she had seen. Her mother would get angry at her daughter for not taking her medicine. Parker never asked for any of this and the medicine didn't help. She just started hiding the episodes from her mother.

"I have to do something." Parker replied finally.

"What?" Her mother pursed her lips, "Run away?"

"Not exactly." Parker sighed, running an agitated hang through her long red hair. "I have to save someone."

Her mother let out a cruel, disbelieving laugh. "It happened again, didn't it?"

"Mom—"

"Answer the question, Parker." Her mother's eyes were narrowed and dangerous.

"Yes, but—" Parker tried to argue.

"No 'but's'," Her mother said furiously, "Why aren't you taking your medication? These delusions you have _aren't_ real!" She shook her head, throwing the bag on the ground.

"The medication never worked. These aren't delusions, mom! Dean's _real_!" Parker argued quickly. "And he's going to die if I don't find him and warn him!"

"_Parker Marie Forest_." Her mother said in a low, seething voice, "You take your medication and stop talking nonsense! Dean isn't _real_. Don't make me call Dr. Vost."

Parker winced. Dr. Vost was the head doctor at the state mental institution that she threatened to send her daughter to when she first had the visions. Parker bit her tongue, not wanting to anger her mother. Parker knew that this was upsetting and hard for her to handle. She had come to accept what she was and had to do something about it now. She had let the British woman die; she couldn't let Dean fall prey to the same fate.

"Okay," Parker lied, "You're right. I'm sorry. I'll take my meds."

Her mother sighed with relief before engulfing Parker in a hug. "I just worry about you. I want you to get better, Parker." She muttered, running a hand through her daughter's hair.

"I know," Parker nodded, pulling away. "I'm really tired. I just want to go to bed and forget about this."

Her mother smiled, "Good idea." She made her way to the door before turning around. "Good night, Parker."

"G'night." Parker replied, pretending to go through her pajama drawer. As soon as her mother shut the door, Parker grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a quite note down:

_I'm sorry. I have to save Dean. I'll be home as soon as it's over. Love, Parker._

Parker snatched up her backpack, stuffing her wallet and extra cash in it before hopping out her window again. She landed with a soft _thud_ and straightened herself up. She knew she would be sent to Dr. Vost for this but at the moment she didn't care. She had to save Dean.

Parker tightened the straps around her shoulders and set off into the night.

* * *

The red-headed girl stared at her surroundings. After taking a short bus ride a few towns over, Parker was sitting in a surprisingly busy roadhouse. It had to be after three by now and there were almost fifteen people in the tiny, dingy tavern.

A blonde, sour-looking girl who was probably only a few years older than Parker brought her a glass of water.

"I haven't ordered yet." Parker told the blonde, confused.

"It's the only thing you're old enough to drink here." She replied, "What would you like to eat?"

Parker hadn't seen a menu anywhere on the table. There weren't specials listed on some brightly decorated board either. Was this some sort of test?

"Uh," Parker cleared her throat. "What do you have?"

The blonde (whose nametag read Jo) itched her head quickly with the tip of her old pencil. "Burgers and fries."

At three in the morning, Parker didn't particularly feel like having her arteries clogged.

"I'm good." Parker answered, smiling briskly. Jo nodded and moved onto the next customer. Parker took a sip of her water and peered at the strange group of folks surrounding her. She had never been one for adventures in the middle of the night so she'd never really seen people like this. Almost every single one of them was wear a ripped piece of clothing or plaid. Parker could have sworn there was some blood on one long haired man before his bulky friend caught her staring and sent him off.

Quickly feeling uneasy, Parker grabbed her bag. Before she could stand up and disappear, a gruff voice muttered something that made her stay. It was a name. "Dean Winchester—"

Parker froze, cocking her ear so she could hear the two rugged-looking men talk more clearly.

The black haired, thicker man sitting with his back directly to Parker spoke, "I talked to Bobby just before they headed out."

His thinner, balding companion grunted, "What did he say? Going to kill the devil?" He sneered.

The thicker man cracked his neck, "Something like that. About a year back, Dean made a deal with some Crossroads Demon—" (His buddy scoffed scornfully) "—and times running out. I guess he didn't get such a good deal."

"What could possibly be worth only living a year before going to hell forever?" The thin man frowned, simply disgusted by the thought.

"His brother," The thick man responded, "Sam."

The thin man threw back his head and laughed loudly, "Always knew they were a little _too_ close."

Parker couldn't see the thick man's face but she was sure he was rolling his eyes. "Have a little respect, Jacob. The man's going to hell for his brother. That's  
dedication."

"Whatever, Robb." Jacob muttered, gulping back his beer.

Parker silently begged Robb to let slip where Dean was going.

"So, what did Bobby tell you about the suicidal plan?" Jacob asked.

"They're gonna try to kill the deal holder. Heading down to New Harmony now." Robb answered, sloshing back his drink.

"Indiana? That's where the famous Crossroads Demon is?" Jacob snorted, "Classy."

"Go get two more beers." Robb said smartly, shoving his cup towards Jacob.

"Who died and made you king?" Jacob retorted, snatching the mugs and making his way to the tiny wooden bar.

Parker couldn't believe her luck. What were the odds that someone in decrepit, mysterious roadhouse would have the key to her next move?

There was no way for Parker to know they were talking about the right Dean but she had to trust her only lead. She didn't know how much time Dean had left until her vision came true so there was no time to waste. New Harmony was a two day trip by bus so she had to get going now.

Parker hopped out of her booth and made it halfway to the door when the lights in the room started to brighten. The place was dim at three in the morning for a reason, why would someone turn them up now?

The light wasn't like normal light. It didn't stop getting brighter and brighter. Parker was not the only one putting her arm up as a shield and looking around in panic. A gasp slipped out of her mouth when almost everyone in the room pulled out some sort of weapon.

Where the hell _was_ she?

"Ellen!" Someone shouted but Parker couldn't see who.

"_Parker._" A gravelly voice said calmly. "_Parker, can you hear me?_"

Everyone in the room screamed, covering their ears and cowering on the ground. Parker couldn't see who or what was calling her name.

"_Parker,_" It repeated, the windows in the building shattered. Parker ducked, covering her face. She glanced up quickly once the glass had settled but couldn't see through the blinding light. Parker turned over her shoulder and a man she hadn't noticed in the bar before stood unaffected by what was going on. "_Parker, you must come with me._"

Parker stayed in her crouched position, staring in shock. He was almost half a foot taller then the redhead. His dark brown hair was slightly disheveled, as was his tie and most of his appearance. The strangest thing about him was his clean trench coat. He looked so unbelievably out of place in the roadhouse.

His bright blue eyes seemed to be soaking in the endless light covering the room.

Without warning, the man touched her shoulder and the light was gone. So was the roadhouse.

Parker fell backwards in shock and tried to scoot away from the mysterious man. Had they just time traveled? No, that was preposterous. She had obviously been magically transported to another located.

"W-What did you do?" Parker blurted.

"We needed to converse in private." The trench coat-clad man answered. "The hunters would not have survived my voice for much longer."

"Hunters? Survived your—What?" Parker sputtered, staring wide-eyed at the strange man.

"Do not ask stupid questions." He answered swiftly, getting tired of this girl already. He knew she wasn't a simple minded human but that didn't mean Castiel's patience wasn't being tempted.

Parker bit her tongue, trying to think of a question that would not be deemed stupid by this man.

"Who are you?" Parker whispered fearfully.

"I am Castiel," He responded powerfully, "an angel of the Lord."


	3. A Prophet of God

An Angel?

Had that really been what he said?

_Impossible_, Parker thought, _I'm dreaming._

The man could blind people with light and transport them to another location. If he wasn't an Angel, he was certainly _something_.

Parker gaped up at the angel, "Wha—An Angel?"

Castiel didn't bother responding. "I was sent here to return you to Heaven."

Parker picked herself off the ground, brushing off dust that had stuck to her jeans.

"You're insane." She mumbled, "Is this some kind of joke?" She squinted at the man, "I'm dreaming, aren't I?" She decided that made the most sense, "The visions had stopped. This is all a dream. Dean isn't real."

"Dean Winchester is very real." Castiel corrected. "But, he is not your problem."

"He's real?" Parker's eyes widened.

"Yes," Castiel nodded, "But, Dean—"

"How can he not be my problem? Is he really going to die?" Parker questioned. This man seemed to have all the answers.

"Yes," The answer was so emotionless that Parker was unsure how to respond.

"And you don't care?" She grimaced in disgust. "What kind of Angel are you?"

"I am an Angel of the Lord." He repeated, "Saving Dean Winchester is not your battle. God gave you the ability to foresee events that concerned Bela Talbot. You need not worry about Dean."

"Bela Talbot?" Parker run a shaky hand through her hair, "That was the British woman's name?"

Castiel nodded, "Her story is over. You must return to Heaven with me. It is God's will."

Parker shook her head, "This—This is too much." She felt nauseas. They were in the middle of field with nothing for her to lean on or hide behind. "I don't understand what you're saying."

Castiel stared at the human prophet, sizing her up. He had never dealt with one before. This wasn't going exactly as planned. Parker wasn't as faithful and conforming as Jimmy Novak. He had hit a road block in his seemingly perfect plan.

"You, Parker Forest, are a Prophet of God. You are a mouthpiece, a conduit for the inspired word." He explained as the girl looked at Castiel in confusion and awe.

"A _Prophet_?" She murmured, "You're kidding me."

"I am not…kidding you." Castiel replied uncertainly.

"Okay," Parker swallowed the excess salvia, trying to comprehend this all, "I'm a prophet." She peered up at Castiel, "What now?"

"I must return you to Heaven." He told her again, feeling his patience waiver.

But, Castiel had to be understanding. Those were his orders. Apparently, for some, it wasn't as easy to comprehend their destiny, their fate.

Castiel's superior, Zachariah, had told him to take as long as Parker needed. That she might not believe him at first. Speaking with a Prophet for an Angel of Castiel's ranking was an honor. He was told to treat it as such.

"But, Dean," Parker said, "We have to save him!"

Castiel looked at the small prophet, not understanding this logic. "Have you witnessed his demise?"

Parker nodded fervently.

"Once a Prophet has seen it, it shall come to pass." Castiel uttered one of the many phrases that were burned into his mind. "You cannot save Dean Winchester."

Parker wasn't having it. She was a Prophet. She _could_ save Dean Winchester.

"You're wrong." She said plainly, crossing her arms as if to emphasize her point, "It hasn't happened yet, has it?" She asked as an afterthought.

Castiel glanced up at the Heavens, "Not yet. It will happen soon, though."

"Soon?" Parker cried, "How soon?"

"Tonight." He answered, "In approximately seven minutes."

_"Seven minutes?"_ Parker felt her hope slipping away, "New Harmony is, like, two days away! We'll never make it!"

Castiel replied, "My mission is to return you to Heaven, not New Harmony."

Parker wetted her lips, "I heard you the first time. We're just going to have to take a little pit stop before Heaven." She promised.

Castiel didn't want to listen to the Prophet, but they were in his orders. As long as she promised to return to Heaven, he would do what she wanted.

"Do we have a deal?" Parker begged, "You help me save Dean and I'll go with you to Heaven."

Castiel didn't have to think about it. He understood his orders clearly. "If this is the Prophet's last request, then it shall be done."

"Right," Parker put out her hand for him to shake.

Castiel eyed it apprehensively, unsure what she intended him to do with her appendage.

"You're supposed to shake it." She informed him, fighting a smile, "To seal the deal."

"This is much better than the Crossroad Demon way." Castiel commented, placing his hand in Parker's.

Parker gave the Angel a strange look, unsure of what he was talking about.

But, she didn't have time to ask him further questions. Time was running out. "Now, zap us to New Harmony before it's too late!" Parker pleaded.

Castiel nodded, placing the hand he had previously shaken on her shoulder, "To New Harmony."

And—in and instant—they were gone.

Eerie silence was all that was left in their place.

It was as if an Angel and a Prophet had never occupied the field at all.


	4. Death

Parker barely had time to blink when they arrived at New Harmony, Indiana. Castiel removed his hand and stood quietly watching the scene before them.

It was a quaint little neighborhood full of symmetrical houses with perfect lawns. Parker could hear the faint sound of a lone sprinkler system going off. She licked her chapped lips and scanned the area, "Which house—"

She didn't need to go any further. She had a pretty good idea which house Dean Winchester was in. The only one with its sprinkler system turned on at four in the morning. The only one with a line of men standing outside the line of fire for the sprinklers, surrounding the blue house.

"Who are they?" Parker whispered. They needed to move. Dean's seven minutes were slipping by.

"Demons." Castiel answered. "They have been watching Lilith."

"Who's Lilith?" Parker questioned.

"The head Crossroad Demon. The one who holds Dean's soul." Castiel murmured, "That is why Dean Winchester is here. He and Sam are trying to destroy Lilith to save Dean. They are going to fail."

Parker frowned, walking forward toward the house crawling with demons.

"Where are you going?" Castiel called after the prophet.

"To make sure they don't fail." Parker said determinedly.

Suddenly, Castiel was standing right in front of Parker, causing her to bump into him without enough warning time to stop herself. Castiel steadied her with his usual unreadable expression.

"What are you doing?" Parker demanded, trying to edge around the Angel to no avail. "Move, Castiel."

She tried to shove him but he was too sturdy for it to have much of an effect.

"I cannot let you go in there." He told her frankly.

"Why the hell not?" Parker scowled.

"It is not safe for you."

"If you think ridding your sentences of contractions makes this a viable argument," Parker huffed, "You _are_ wrong. You made a promise. No take backs!"

Castiel stared at the house expectantly. As if on cue, a painful, heart wrenching scream came bellowing from the house. "It is happening."

Parker dodged the Angel furiously and tried to run forward only for him to block her again. "Stop it!" She yelled, "Stop it! We have to save him!"

The plea for help echoed on for a few moments before it silenced altogether.

Dean Winchester was dead.

Parker fell on her hands and knees, no longer struggling with the Angel. She had failed Dean. She hadn't been able to save him.

Parker looked on at the house. Black smoke burst through the roof and spiraled away. Soon after, all the people standing in front of the house threw their heads back and black smoke erupted from their bodies. Once it danced after the other smoke, the bodies fell to the ground in a limp pile.

Parker sat, devastated. She had foolishly thought she could make a difference. She thought there was some higher purpose in these visions, that God _wanted_ her to save Dean. She had been so prideful, so full of hubris. She thought she was invincible, that saving Dean was like saving the world. Parker couldn't have been more wrong.

"I'm sorry, Parker." Castiel said honestly. "I told you this would happen. I tried to warn you."

Parker shook her head, unable to speak. She had wanted so badly to save Dean, to make this right. What kind of cruel God would allow her to see such things and not let her right it.

Parker didn't want to go to Heaven. She wanted to stay here and forget about Dean Winchester and Bela Talbot and Castiel. Castiel hadn't helped her save anyone. The deal was off.

Castiel could see the desperate anger etched all over her face. The prophet wasn't very good at hiding things. "We have to go, Parker."

"No." She growled defiantly. "Not until we save Dean."

Castiel heaved a sigh of disapproval. "Dean Winchester is gone. It is over."

"There has to be _something_ we can do." Parker flared her nostrils. It couldn't be over. Dean couldn't go to hell.

Castiel pursed his lips, staring intently at the prophet. He couldn't understand why she was taking this so hard. Parker didn't know Dean Winchester. So why was she acting so stubborn?

"We can't just leave him down there!" Parker barked when Castiel didn't do anything. "We have to bring him back. You're an angel, you can do something! You can bring him back!"

She looked up at him with so much hope and desperation that Castiel hesitated to answer. He even gave her pleas some thought. Now he was questioning _his_ motives. He knew neither Dean Winchester nor Parker Forest. He owed them nothing. But something in Parker's face made him think.

"I cannot help you." Castiel finally muttered, "I cannot simply raise Dean from Perdition."

"There must be something else." Parker argued, "Some fairy dust or magic or spell or some other person you know! Maybe some other Angel—_Please_, Castiel, there has to be some way to save him!"

Castiel tilted his head. His blue eyes squinted lightly, "I cannot simply raise Dean from Perdition—"

"You said that—" Parker tried to argue.

Castiel continued as if there was no interruption, "—But there is someone who can. Someone dangerous. Someone who shouldn't be released from his cage."

"Who?" Parker demanded greedily, "Who is it?"

"Death." Castiel answered darkly. Parker frowned, unsure whether the Angel was joking or not. He hadn't made a joke all night so she was guessing on the latter. Castiel didn't seem capable of joking.

"Death?" She asked apprehensively.

"Death." Castiel confirmed, "One of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The Angel of Death."

"Great," Parker breathed, feeling fearful. Castiel was one thing. But, the _actual_ Angel of Death? That seemed a little too terrifying to comprehend. "How do I get to him?"

"You do not." Castiel furrowed his vessel's brows, "He is chained in a box six hundred feet in hell."

"Then how was bringing Death up remotely helpful?" Parker seethed. "If we can't get him, what good is he?"

"You cannot get him." Castiel went on. "You are just a prophet. There is a spell to unleash him. It is dangerous."

"Would we die?" Parker asked worriedly.

"You would not."

"And what about you?"

"Most likely." Castiel nodded. He didn't seem the least bit bothered by this fact. Parker couldn't fully understand the loyalty Angels had.

"What do we do?" Parker questioned slowly.

"There is a spell and a ritual. One is faster, one is temporary." Castiel responded mechanically.

"Which one's faster?"

"The ritual."

"What does it entail?"

"An entire town's death."

Parker gaped at the Angel and his nonchalant-ness of murdering an entire town of innocent people. "That's not particularly angelic of you…"

"Are you against the ritual?" He asked, unphased.

"Very much so." Parker grimaced, "What's the spell?"

"It is a binding spell. It is temporary. Once it is over, he'll go back to his cage." Castiel revealed, "He will not be particularly pleased with us and even less likely to help us."

There was risk in both plans but Parker had to do something. The longer they waited, the longer Dean rotted in a miscarriage of justice. Who knew what kind of heinous torture he was being forced through.

"Do the spell." She commanded the Angel. "And keep your fingers crossed and your rabbit foot on hand, Castiel."

"I do not understand that reference." Castiel blinked, "However, I shall commence the spell forthwith."


	5. A Deal With Death

Parker wasn't too sure how happened.

One moment, Castiel was mashing tiny, charred bones and muttering some nonsense incantation, and the next, a sickly looking man in a black suit was standing before them.

There was a fair bit an earth shaking and tear shedding fear on Parker's part, but Castiel seemed as impassive as ever. Death was standing before them and Castiel didn't even bat an eye.

It hit Parker like a cement truck:_ Death_ was standing in front of her. And he looked beyond angry. His hollow face held pure fury.

Parker's eyes bulged, her entire body shook in fear. Castiel tilted his head in that curious way he always did, "Hello, Death." He uttered simply.

Parker couldn't find her voice. She couldn't find her feet to find the door to find a place _very_ far away from Death.

Death's thin lips puckered, his dark eyes surveyed the dank motel room in disgust. "Six hundred years and this is the prize I come back to." His deep, tired voice said. A hint of sarcasm lined it.

"I am Castiel," Parker's companion announced, "An Angel of the Lord."

Death rolled his eyes. Parker hadn't moved a millimeter. Or blinked. Or breathed. She gasped for air and Death's attention flickered to her. A tiny whimper fell from her trembling lips.

"That is Parker," Castiel continued, "A Prophet of the Lord."

Death remained silent, watching the tiny redhead with a fair amount of disdain. "_She's_ a Prophet?"

"Yes," Castiel answered, not hearing the degradation in Death's voice.

"Someone's desperate." He muttered quietly.

Parker furrowed her brows, unsure what he was talking about.

"He used to have such high standards." Death sighed exasperatedly, "Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel. All strong, capable men who didn't need _Angels_" (he chortled derisively) "to do their bidding."

Castiel shrugged, like he agreed fully with Death but didn't want to say it aloud.

Death shook his head, "So, since I've been so rudely awakened from my lovely prison, what can I do for the baby Prophet?"

He was staring directly at her. The hairs all over her body felt like they were going to fall off and run away screaming. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, like the life was draining out of her with Death in the room. Death, who was looking straight at her, waiting for the baby Prophet's response.

"Um," Parker cleared her throat, her voice cracking a bit, "I need a…favor?"

Death smirked, "Do you now?"

"Yes," Castiel responded, "That is what the Prophet just said."

Death sighed with annoyance at Castiel's inability to grasp sarcasm and mockery. "And what sort of favor does the baby Prophet want from Death itself?"

"Dean Winchester." Was all she could manage to get out.

He cocked a dark brow, "What is a '_Dean Winchester_'?"

"He's a human who died approximately two hours ago." Castiel informed him.

"And what is he to you?" Death asked in a bored voice, "A boyfriend? A brother? A family friend?"

"I've never met him before in my life." Parker answered honestly.

Despite himself, Death was surprised. "That's a new one. I've never been asked to raise a complete stranger from the dead before." He rubbed his fingers together, "And how exactly did you hear of this Dean Winchester? How did you know he was dead?"

"I _saw_ it." Parker said shakily, "And then saw it."

"Actually, she heard it." Castiel corrected, "She Prophesized it and then heard it. I would not let Parker witness the heinous act."

"I see," Death tapped his chin, intrigued, "And why do you want to bring Dean Winchester back into this…" He glanced around the room with his long, pointed nose wrinkled, "colorful world?"

"Because he's in hell." Parker answered without any hesitation.

"I see," He repeated. "So, the baby Prophet wants me to pull Dean from Perdition."

"That is what the Prophet is implying," Castiel nodded, "Yes."

"Hmm," Death pretended to think it over, "And why should I help you?"

Parker hadn't thought about that. Why would Death help a silly teenage Prophet? He could probably destroy her in a blink of an eye. He didn't have to do anything for her. The blinding spell would wear off and he would go back into his cage. There was absolutely nothing in this for him. Parker could see that he wouldn't help her if she didn't do something drastic.

"Because it's the right thing to do?" Parker said hopefully.

"Wrong answer." Death looked down at his shackles. "I may be bound to you, but I do not have to help you if I feel inclined to do so. I'm going to need something_ much_ more substantial than knowing in the bottom of my cold, dead heart that Dean Winchester will live a long happy life."

Parker gulped and the words flew out of her mouth before her tired brain could process them. "I'll do anything you want."

Castiel glanced over at the Prophet in alarm. Giving Death free reign over someone was not a good idea. Didn't the silly human know that?

"Anything I want." Death repeated casually. "Then we have a deal."

Parker's eyes widened again. It had seemed too easy. What was she going to have to do to get Dean out?

"Since I'm currently _preoccupied_ down under," Death sighed, "I could always use an extra helping hand."

Parker waited anxiously for her price.

"If you want me to raise Dean Winchester from hell, you're going to have to work for me for an undetermined amount of time."

"How long?" Parker blurted.

Death's slender jaw clenched, "_An undetermined amount of time_." He repeated, annoyed by this idiot Prophet.

"But, Dean is being tortured in hell." Parker argued, "We need to get him out _now_!"

Death raised his brows, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you had the power to raise Dean Winchester from Perdition _and_ boss me around. Don't I feel silly."

Parker clamped her mouth shut, terrified she'd ruined Dean's chance of survival.

"Are you done calling the shots?" Death quipped, "Because I'm going to be bound for at least another fifteen minutes and I'd love to hear what you—an insignificant Prophet—have to say."

Parker swallowed the rising lump in her throat. "I'm done." She murmured.

"Good." Death rolled his eyes, "Because I'd very much like you to get to work now. The sooner I decide you've done enough, the sooner Dean Winchester gets released from Perdition."

"I cannot allow this to happen." Castiel spoke up, "Parker needs to go to Heaven. She needs to—"

"What Parker _needs_ is to take my ring and start Reaping." Death said impatiently. The chains around his wrist were fading as Parker inched closer towards him, her palms reached for his white ring. He plopped it gently in her sweaty hands. Leaning in, his eyes locked in with hers and he said in a low, serious voice, "Do exactly as I say: Reap everyone you are assigned to. Do not cheat out on anyone or Dean Winchester rots in hell for eternity. You know you cannot cheat Death."

Parker nodded curtly, slipping the white ring on her thumb. Death gave her a toothless smile. "Good, we'll be in touch."


End file.
